


So Beautiful In This Light

by psyraah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9910073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: If someone as bright as Keith can love Shiro, then maybe the shadows don't go as deep as he thinks.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snowisdelight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowisdelight/gifts).



> This is for Snow, who creates beautiful art and is a generally extremely positive bean to be around <3 Thank you for being so wonderful. 
> 
> Cheesy title taken from Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran, because....lights *shrugs* I cannot title things to save my life

_Dark. Dark and blood and death, the screaming of the arena. His lion is in the background, turning away as he hears the roar of the crowd: Champion, monster, disgusting, worthless._

_Numb resignation fills him as he kills every new enemy, dispatches them with ease as he tears them apart._

_Galra. Human._

_Matt. Pidge. Lance._

_Allura. Coran. Hunk._

_Keith._

_Shiro’s numb with grief, but he cries as Keith’s lifeless body falls at his feet, eyes wide with betrayal and hate._

_“How could you do this, you monster? Don’t you know I love you?”_

_And Shiro falls to his knees, and the afternoon light filters in his room at the Garrison, Keith lying dead in his arms. He’s crying, choking on tears, his throat aching with it._

_“I know,” he says, but his voice isn’t his. It’s rough and cruel; the voice of his Emperor, a shadow looming behind Shiro as Keith’s bloodied form still glares at him accusingly, filled with hatred._

_“You’re not capable of love. Not a monster like you.”_

_Vrepit sa._

Shiro blinks awake.

It takes a moment to register. The room is dark except for the soft glow of the stars through the window, and there’s no noise except for the intermittent whirring of the castle ship. His mind is foggy from sleep, but the images slowly come back to him.

The tears start as it hits him all over again.

It’s not even anything horribly dramatic; he’s had worse breakdowns, has had days where every shadow was an enemy and every beat of his heart convinced him that he wasn’t safe. He’s aware, at least, of where he is. In bed, in the castle, and safe—for now—with the rest of his friends asleep in their own rooms, except for one.

But there is this horrible, oppressive _weight_ in his chest now, clawing at his lungs and making him feel like he’s being torn apart from the inside. Every nerve buzzes with tension, and he sniffs, the tears tracking quickly from his eyes down into his hair as he stares sightlessly at the dark of the ceiling.

Blindly, he reaches for the warm form on the other side of his bed, rolls over and tucks himself around Keith, sobbing silently, shaking with tears. He’s barely aware of what he’s doing, just knows that he needs _Keith_ right now. Needs his warmth, his love, needs his arms safe and strong around him.

The blanket rustles, and Keith stirs beneath Shiro’s arm. Shiro can feel him shifting, and he hates that he has to wake Keith up just for this: Shiro’s weakness, his shadows, his stupid nightmares and ridiculous fears.

“Shiro?” Keith’s voice is rough, confused, but the sound of his breathing and the gentle tone of his voice is comforting against the irrational thought in Shiro’s head that still has him seeing Keith’s lifeless body glaring hatred at him.

Keith rolls over, shifting so he can wrap an arm around Shiro’s waist, and Shiro clings to him like a lifeline. Keith sleeps shirtless, and Shiro presses himself up against warm skin, tears still tracking silently down his cheeks as he presses his face against Keith’s neck.

Keith must feel the moisture, because his hand starts rubbing gentle circles in Shiro’s back. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

But Shiro just shakes his head, and pulls Keith closer. He can’t talk, can only make some kind of strangled noise when he tries to breathe properly, the persistent tendrils of a scream that he doesn’t manage to shut down entirely. “Keith,” he chokes, and Keith’s pulling the covers so that they wrap more firmly around them, protect Shiro from any of the chill air of the castle that seeps into their warmth and safety. Shiro hates the cold. Cold is prison cells and dead bodies, cold is the feeling of the arm that they gave him to replace warm skin.

Cold is what he became to survive.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Keith whispers gently, and he rolls so that he’s lying on his back, Shiro tucked up against his chest. “I’m here, you’re safe now. You’re safe, you’re with me.”

Shiro hiccups, and sniffs. Crying is ugly and horrible, but Keith doesn’t seem to mind. Just keeps running his fingers through Shiro’s hair, trails his knuckles gently over Shiro’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over the scar that crosses Shiro’s nose because he knows the touch feels good for Shiro. And it does; it calms him, a little, the touch tender across his skin. Hearing and feeling Keith’s heart beat loud and strong in his chest also helps, reminding him that Keith is _here_ , with him, and blissfully alive.

Keith keeps talking, because he knows that his voice calms Shiro. He has taken the time to learn about Shiro—how he is and what he needs—and Shiro is never more grateful for that than when he’s sobbing from half-forgotten fear and demons that refuse to die. “You’re safe here, we all are. You know, maybe today we’ll just have a day off. I mean, we deserve one. We’ll just hang out with the others, and I can beat Lance at everything, and you can spoil Pidge ‘cause that’s what you like to do. Maybe spend some time with our lions? I don’t think we spend enough time with them when we’re not fighting. I’ve been trying with Red, and I think I’ve _almost_ got this thing going on where I can kind of feel her even when I’m not with her. Like, she’s just kind of always sleeping in my brain?”

Shiro sniffs, and nods. “Yeah,” he says, voice thick and throat clogged. He knows what Keith’s talking about, and now he mentions it, he can feel Black in the back of his mind. Steady, calming, and it grounds him a little bit more.

“They’re pretty amazing, aren’t they? I mean, robot lions are pretty cool anyway. But robot lions with brains and weird psychic powers just makes it better.” He keeps up this endless stream of one-sided conversation, and Shiro loves him so much for it.

And then the terrible fear returns at the thought that it might not be reciprocated. “Do you love me?” he asks Keith, who stops mid-sentence. His voice is choked with tears. It’s weak, pathetic, and ridiculous, but Keith holds him closer all the same.

“Of course,” Keith says, all quiet assurance. “Of course I do, Takashi. More than anything.”

For some stupid reason, Shiro cries harder. He sobs and shakes in their bed— _their_ bed, because they’re a unit built on something good and whole and strong—wraps his arm around Keith to hold him impossibly closer, and Keith just keeps murmuring quiet words.

The tears eventually slow, then stop, though Shiro’s breath still shudders. Keith’s hand is gentle on his shoulder, rubbing slow circles on Shiro’s skin. He must feel Shiro start to settle down, because he’s moving, and then his voice is closer to Shiro’s ear. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” Shiro croaks. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Keith lips brush against his forehead, and Shiro takes a slow, shaky breath, forcing it steady as he releases it. “You okay to go back to sleep, or…?”

Shiro nods, exhausted from the tears. Sometimes his thoughts continue to keep him awake, but tonight he’s just…so tired. “Yeah. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You’re fine.” Keith presses another kiss to his hair, before shuffling so that they’re more comfortable.

“Thank you for loving me,” Shiro whispers.

“Always, ‘Kashi. Always.”

“I love you back, Keith.” He swallows down the lump that threatens to bring him to tears again. “So much.”

“I know. You’re the best, Takashi. Now go to sleep, I’m right here.”

Even in the dark, Shiro knows Keith is smiling. Knows that the boy that he loves is glad for Shiro to be there, and that helps settle him. Because even at his lowest, Shiro will believe in Keith. Beautiful Keith with his vast love for the world despite all the things he never had or that had been taken from him. Keith who smiles wider than anyone when they’re flying, who will go above and beyond to protect his family and his people, who will listen patiently when Hunk rants about the need for a specific part for a ship or ingredient for his meals. Keith who is warmth and safety and _home_.

If Keith—wonderful, beautiful, intelligent Keith—can still be here at the end of the day and hold onto Shiro, then maybe there’s something in Shiro that’s still worth fighting for.

**Author's Note:**

> On [twitter](https://twitter.com/starchydreams/status/835102156738850818) and [tumblr](http://psytrron.tumblr.com/post/157649217044/killing-writers-block-one-hc-fic-at-a-time)! Please let me know what you thought <3


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